


Grounding Force

by Trashdarling



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Codependency, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not Eating, Sherlock is an idiot, just a little though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashdarling/pseuds/Trashdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After not eating for days, Sherlock is a mess in both mind and body.  When John comes home and takes care of him, Sherlock has a life changing realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounding Force

Sherlock gazed steadily at the ceiling above him. The edges of his vision were pleasantly fuzzy, though if this was lack of eating or lack of sleep or some wonderful combination of both he couldn’t say. 

His mind was so… quiet. Not empty, never empty, but peaceful. There was nothing but this odd, tingly place he found himself in. His whole body was infested in it, the tiny coloured dots his exhausted optics projected running in lovely pricks down his arms and out through his toes. He could hum along to the buzzing the little specks in his ears if he could keep a tune in his head.

Some distant, still logical part of his brain balked at such unbelievable thoughtlessness, reprimanded how unhelpfully stupid he was being as it tried desperately to remind him of some obligation or other. Not that he could be bothered to do it. It was… nice here, for once. Nice just to exist.

“Sherlock? You in there?” It took him a moment to register the voice, unmistakably John’s.

‘Of course I’m here’, he tried to say. ‘This is the most splendid place imaginable’. He was unable to force his thick tongue to form the words, but it didn’t seem to matter. John was smart and good and understood more than anyone had ever tried, he would figure it out.

John replied with some distant grumbling that Sherlock didn’t bother to register. The low murmur of John’s voice in the distance was enough…

Something liquid and far too sweet fell down his throat. He gagged, the swimming in his head no longer pleasant when his body shot up in response to the foul taste. A strong hand gripped his shoulder fiercely, alarmingly present and distant all at once.

“None of that. I know it’s not the greatest thing in the world but it’ll help.” John’s Doctor Watson voice was in full effect, making Sherlock feel obligated to believe his word as fact.

“Why--” he coughed, his throat suddenly dry and painful. This time when John poured more of the dreadful mixture into his mouth Sherlock was ready for it, swallowing the literal spoonful John had shoved at him.

John answered the unfinished question as he ladled more sugar water into Sherlock’s mouth, his stoic face becoming clearer as Sherlock regained the ability to see properly. “You haven’t eaten in days and your blood sugar is dangerously low. Pair that with obvious dehydration and lack of sleep and, well, it’s gotten to the point where you need someone to nurse you back to health literally by hand because you’re too stupid to take care of yourself for three bloody days!”

Sherlock’s brain whirred, finally kicking in fully to process what John had said. He performed his best scowl, snatching the cup from John’s hand shakily to gulp down the dreaded butterfly food himself.

With his brain back online Sherlock could tell John’s medical conference had been frustratingly long, filled with information that just made him yearn for the days he was a trauma surgeon and not a GP. A woman with long auburn hair had flirted with him, as evidenced by the strand still clung to his shirt, but the tenseness around his shoulders showed that nothing came of it. Sherlock felt a lot more smug than he probably should at that revelation.

“I’m not a child” he rasped, valiantly restraining his wince as the words scraped his throat.

John’s mouth twitch angrily, a reflex which had always both frightened and turned Sherlock on. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t act like one then! Maybe you should learn to stay alive without me or Mrs. Hudson around!” John shouted, lifting a bowl of yellow broth from the table and trusting it at Sherlock as he did so.

Despite the pins and needles wracking his body and the horrible dizziness Sherlock choked out, “Why? Are you planning on not being around?” The words came out much more desperate than he had intended. That’s what he got for sitting around doing literally nothing for days, he supposed.

John deflated at the words. Sherlock watched, captivated, as John’s eyes seemed to get brighter and more open, his military hair once again looking soft and touchable. John Watson may have been the most amazing creature Sherlock had ever had the privilege of observing. He almost missed the cocktail of fond and concerned, “No, I’m not… no” in his need to just look at John.

This was much better than all the hazy, uncaring floating of his self destruction.

“This is love, isn’t it?”

John stared, nearly dropping the bowl of soup in comical shock.

Sherlock felt his heart thunder in panic. He had not meant to say that outloud at all. God, this was like one of those inane romantic comedies he and John sometimes made fun of together, only instead of a kiss and a returned declaration John was going to leave Baker Street again and Sherlock would only have his hollowed insides and loneliness and firework mind and--

And John was kissing him. Like some sort of inane romantic comedy, John was kissing him, soft and sweet and just long enough to feel the gentle give of his lips against his.

Everything was warm and light and brilliant, so much so that for a moment Sherlock wondered if his most recent self destructive streak had actually killed him.

John laughed, high and bright and so happy. “Yes, I think it is”

“Hmm?” Sherlock intoned, his brain still not fully recovered from John’s gentle assault.

The laugh returned, more forceful and pure than ever. “You asked if this was love. I said, yes, I think it is”

Sherlock actually did topple the bowl off of John’s lap in his haste to feel the shape of John’s smile against his mouth. If the gentle hand stroking his curls was any indication, John didn’t mind.

They pulled away with breathless giggles, like teenagers on a first date. Sherlock wasn’t sure if the room spinning was still the lack of self care or John’s kisses at this point.

John, no doubt noticing his swaying, lightly smacked Sherlock’s arm. “If you ever go that long without eating or sleeping I swear to God, Sherlock Holmes, there will be no force on Earth that could stop me from--”

Sherlock kissed him. “I promise the next time I do something so… inadvisable, I will text you.”

Despite his best efforts, John smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of an actual situation that happened with my girlfriend and I. We agreed that it sounded like something that would happen to Sherlock and John and then this happened. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
